


My Demons

by IAmSherLOCKED666



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:05:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmSherLOCKED666/pseuds/IAmSherLOCKED666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things that happened between the movies.<br/>This was inspired by the Song My Demons by Starset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Demons

My Demons

_Mayday! Mayday!_

_The Ship is Slowly Sinking._

_They Think I’m Crazy_

_But They Don’t Know The Feeling_

_Location: Somewhere In The Arctic Circle_

Cold water filled his lungs. This was it. He was done. He’d served his country well. _I’m coming home._ Before unconsciousness the last thing he saw was grey eyes like a storm.

 

_They’re All Around Me_

_Circling Like Vultures_

_They Wanna Break Me_

_And Wash Away My Colours  
_

_Something’s Wrong._

Grey eyes blinked open and the first thing he noticed was **Red** hot pain searing through his left arm. The second thing he noticed was the **White** light shining down on him. And third a **Blue** sheet was hanging next to him. _Am I in a hospital?_

The pain was nearly unbearable. How could the people walking around not see the fire? _I need to tell them._    He opened his mouth and all that came out was a scream. Loud and anguished stopped only by the fact that his throat was dry and tongue felt swollen.

He could hear their voices now.   _Russian_ he suspected.

 _Something’s wrong._ That feeling again, the same one that woke him up. He was having trouble thinking. _Steve._

**_S      t     e     v     e       ._ **

Something was wrong with Steve. Where was he? The memories were coming back.

_Steve getting smaller…….._

_Wait… No._

_Further. Steve getting further. I fell from the train…_

_I died… but no… again wrong… I’m alive._

He tried to speak again. ”Steve?”   The pain in his arm seemed less important now that he could think.

                “Mister Barnes.”

He started fighting against the restraints trying to find this person who spoke English. Perhaps he knew where Steve was.

                “Mister Barnes, please relax.” Bucky could turn his head a little to the right and he saw the man there, he wore glasses and had grey hair. He thought he had seen him before in one of the profiles they had poured over.

                “Where’s Steve?”

The man smiled and the smile made Bucky’s stomach fill with dread. “We’ve just received word that Mister Roger’s plane went down somewhere in the Arctic.”

He tried to shake his head. “No.”

                “Yes. I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Nothing about the man’s face said he was sorry. In fact he looked ecstatic.

His eyes hurt and burned and he wanted to hit something.

                “Don’t worry Mister Barns. I have something for the pain. This will also finish what Zola started.” He pulled out a vial of purple liquid and a syringe. “This is the second part to a serum derived from the blood of your precious, Captain.” He placed the needle into Bucky’s neck and pushed it in. Nearly immediately his head went fuzzy and things got hard to remember.

_It had been Christmas morning and Steve’s fever had only just broken._

_“Come on Buck. Please I wanna see the parade.”_

_Bucky gave a sigh. He had been fighting with the sixteen year old about staying in all week. “Five minutes. And that’s it.”_

_“Yes, Moooom.” His voice was sarcastic and Bucky rolled his eyes with a reluctant smile handing him his own jacket which was way too big on the boy._

_He followed him into the hall and to the lift up to the top of the building. The parade was going on in the street down below and the look of excitement on Steve’s face was worth it. His Cheeks Were **Red** from the cold, hands a pale **White** as they clapped, and his eyes glinted **Blue** as he whooped at the top of his lungs. _

**_S       t     e     v     e       ._ **

_He was beautiful._

_Red cheeks. White skin. Blue eyes._

_Wash Away My Colours_

_Red. White. Blue._ Those colours were important to him. _But why?_


End file.
